


this is not the night for stars to die

by NotLikeYouThink



Series: Timeless >>> One-Shots [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A Short Angst Fic, Angst, Because I can, Broken Stiles Stilinski, Guilt, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Stiles Stilinski Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 13:05:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17643377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotLikeYouThink/pseuds/NotLikeYouThink
Summary: Stiles was broken, and there was no one that could help him.





	this is not the night for stars to die

Standing in the dark, Stiles Stilinski looked at himself in the mirror. His fingers hurt as he clutched at the bathroom's basin, terrified of what he saw staring back at him, but he couldn't look away.

He was pale, paler than he usually was, the dark bags under his eyes scarring his cheeks like trenches in a field. His hair was going everywhere, and his lips were cracked and bleeding, dried out from the lack of care that happened to his body.

His eyes were going dry as he stared.

The nogistune hadn't cared about what happened to its host. And now, he was reaping the consequences he had down all those weeks prior, when he, Scott, and Allison reawakened the Nemeton.

His eyes fluttered to a close as that name came to the forefront of his mind.

He had remembered everything the nogitsune did. Including killing Allison and Aiden.

His heart started to pound, and he rested his head against the basin, screwing his eyes shut to stop the images in his head.

Allison dead in Scott's arms. Aiden dead in his brother's.

He took a deep breath and told himself what everyone else had said. "It's not your fault." But he couldn't convince himself of it, couldn't let go of the guilt that was eating him up on the inside.

The nogitsune had used his body to do it. His. While he had slowly been driven to madness, watching everything crumble around him.

He still couldn't stand open doors.

Tears started trailing down his cheeks, and his shoulders started shaking as silent sobs filled his body, and he slowly sank to the ground, his legs unable to hold his weight.

Why had it happened to him? What had he done to deserve this?

He let in a wet breath of air, covering his mouth with his hand. His dad was downstairs, and he didn't want him to think something was wrong. He needed to look better, be better. He couldn't be broken. He had to be healed.

But he was oh so broken, and the cracks were only getting bigger.

He fell asleep underneath the sink, exhaustion overtaking his body. When was the last time he slept? He couldn't remember.

He dreamt of foxes and trees, and the darkness inside him that only grew bigger.


End file.
